


I Should've Worshipped Her Sooner

by WelshWitch1011



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fix-It, Romance, Supernatural Elements, That finale never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: Ethan Chandler finds himself on the precipice of surrender, until a voice from the past reminds him of his destiny. Ethan/Vanessa. Season 3 AU. Fix-it.
Relationships: Ethan Chandler/Vanessa Ives
Comments: 23
Kudos: 60





	1. 'Command Me To Be Well'

**Author's Note:**

> Because years later, I'm still absolutely incandescent with rage at that awful Penny Dreadful finale. Vanessa Ives deserved far, far better.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing; not PD, or the amazing Hozier song that inspired the title.

Plumes of fog curled around the slumbering city, blanketing even the steeples of the tallest churches in shrouds of grey. Street lamps flickered feebly against the darkness, hardly making their presence known between the dark winter morning and the mist that had engulfed the old town. At the usually bustling docks, the bows of ships lay hidden away in the mist as they sat idle whilst shivering crewmen optimistically loaded cargo onto the grand vessels, hoping to be able to escape their anchored bounds once the weather had cleared. Their stuttered breaths drifted from their lips in wisps of white clouds that seemed to linger in the freezing air that gripped the London morning, and they paused intermittently to rub their hands together against the cold.

Ethan observed them casually, the churning in his stomach now little more than a flutter as he seemed strangely at peace with his chosen fate. The tip of the cigarette between his lips glowed red in the darkness as he took a long, slow drag, pausing before he released the smoke in a heavy hearted sigh. He licked his lips clean of the taste of tobacco and watched as the mist crept further and further inland; he found himself silently thankful that it appeared to be keeping the sunrise at bay. The darkness was a comforting cloak - a friend he could seek solace in - and he was lulled into quiet contemplation by the anonymity it offered. Sitting in the doorway of a boarded up merchant fishermen's lodge, he was free from disruption save the few sailors and factory workers who were battling the elements to get to work. Once the dawn broke he would go to the police and turn himself in, and his fate would be sealed. He thought perhaps it had been set into motion all those years before, when the curse of the wolf had been placed upon him. No good hearted man could live with the atrocities he had committed, after all.

Taking another drag on his cigarette, he found his gaze settling on a young couple at the dock side. Though she was clad in only a well-worn dress, and had little more than a light woollen shawl wrapped around her slim shoulders to shield her from the cold, the woman seemed too consumed with melancholy to notice her own violent shivering. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the young sailor before her and she buried her face in his chest, obviously reluctant to be parted with her sea-faring lover. The oceans were perilous, ships were frequently lost at sea, and Ethan was certain that her mind was currently fixated on the horrors of a watery grave or a weather-beaten ship running adrift in lands far from the English shores. Her gentle sobs reached his ear perhaps more acutely than others could have detected, as did her sweetheart's pledge to return to her. They'd be married in the spring, he assured her. All would be well.

Ethan found his mind suddenly drifting, and he quickly recalled a similar expression of grief written across another woman's features; grief he himself had been the cause of only hours earlier. But he'd rather die than visit his own darkness upon the woman he loved, and so he had left; wrenched himself from her arms with noble intentions, denying the unconditional love she had offered him to instead atone for his sins. Sins the beast had forced him to commit, in crimes he could not well recall. But guilt weighed heavily on his heart and the disquieted souls of those whose blood he'd spilt beckoned him home to face the hangman's noose, and an eternity paying for his cursed nature.

But oh how he had wanted to stay with her. To lose himself in her arms, to embrace the only light he had ever found in this life, to spend a lifetime at her side and take joy in her smiles and the laughter he was certain would have echoed through the halls of their home. After so much pain and anguish, he'd have made sure the days ahead of her were happy ones. Perhaps in time there would have been children, dark haired and blue eyed, he'd like to think. A son perhaps, with his quick mouth and her agile mind, and a daughter - all knowing like her mother, but born out of so much love that the grasp of darkness wouldn't dare try to touch her.

He smiled one final time at the flight of fancy, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and folding his arms across his chest as he leant back against the door frame and allowed his tired eyes to flutter closed.

It was the sudden movement that pricked his senses; the rustle of heavy skirts that appeared next to him inexplicably without him having heard their wearer approaching.

His eyes opened with a jolt and he found himself staring into the face of a small, stout woman. Dark eyes piercing and wide, she glared at him with unbridled fury, her rounded face set and determined. She looked like no woman he had seen before, her clothes dark and plain, hair grey and short in a style befitting more of a man than a woman of her age, but it was the expression of acknowledgement that caught Ethan off guard the most.

"Something I can do for you, ma'am?" he began, frowning as she drew her lips into a tight line. Before he could think or react she'd reached out and hastily - with a heavy hand - struck him across the head like a school master chastising a naughty child.

"What the fuck?!" he gasped, sliding up against the door to his feet. He found the woman was staring back at him defiantly. He blinked once, twice, looking down to where she stood - arms folded across her matronly bosom – and he was unable to comprehend how she'd managed her assault without moving from the spot she appeared rooted to.

"Do I have to hit you again, boy? Or did that knock the sense back into you?" she snarled, stepping forward until Ethan could see the light from the street lamps filter through her stoic, ashen face.

"Go home. Go home to her. Before it's too late," she warned. She held him in a steady gaze that almost dared him to look away.

Ethan's brows knit into a frown and in disbelief he stared at the woman; a figure he suspected was visible only to his own eye.

"Who are you?" he demanded, but memories of swinging an axe through the blackened branches of a tree reminded him that he already knew the face in the darkness.

"We don't have time for unnecessary pleasantries. You know who I am, as I know you... _Lupus Dei_."

The words left his lip curling in disgust and he shook his head bitterly, a wave of self-loathing threatening to engulf him once again.

"Lady, you know nothing about me."

The woman smiled, amusement twinkling in her almost black eyes.

"I saw you, lad, before Vanessa even knew of your existence on this earth. You were there, in her hand, written into the deepest lines of her palm... entwined. You are bound together in this life and the next." Brushing her hands resolutely down the sides of her skirt, she added dismissively, "Your destinies are one and the same. That is how it is and how it must be."

Ethan looked away, his heart constricting with grief at the mention of Vanessa's name, but he shook his head bitterly.

"I can't stay, I have to... to atone for what I did. I can't - _I won't_ \- ask her to walk this path with me."

Joan tilted her head, curious. "Is that not her choice to make? A choice she has already made. And you, do you love her?"

Ethan countered her reply with a huff of irritation and he took off his hat, tossing it onto the top of his bag as he once more crouched down on the ground. His back pressed against the paint chipped door of the old hostel.

"More than anything." Avoiding the expectant gaze of the woman, his jaw set in determination. "But I will not bring further darkness upon her."

His reply was resolute, and his heart broke again at the implications of his sacrifice.

The sound of laughter caused his head to snap up, and his eyes narrowed as he regarded the woman. What amusement she could find in his misery he was uncertain, but he felt his temper fraying as she chuckled at his admission.

Before he could so much as form a response, she hissed at him from between a row of yellowed teeth.

"You think you've won against Him?" she cackled. "You arrogant shit! This is but one battle, boy, and evil has many faces. Lucifer did not fall alone. He will return for her and once more try to claim her, you mark me! The power that surges through her veins calls to him even now. It won't be silenced, and once she willingly gives herself to him she will birth death and destruction upon the earth. Vanessa was born of sin, marked by the demon before she had suckled at her whore mother's breast. The light you see in her can so easily become darkness... if I had not loved her so I perhaps would have feared her… feared what she could become."

Ethan shook his head bitterly, "No. No. Vanessa would never..."

Her expression suddenly sombre, Joan took a seat beside him on the cold, gnarled step. She noted the trepidation he eyed her with and used this to her advantage as she inclined her head to secure his rapt attention.

"You have broken her heart. Abandoned her. What is there now to keep the whispers of darkness at bay? The scorpion is agile and fierce in battle, but the creature will sting itself to death when it knows the fight is lost, when all hope is gone. You do not save her by leaving. You damn her."

Staring out across the dock to where the mist was beginning to ebb out across the water, the Cut Wife was silent for a moment. Ethan found himself unable to look away, terrified by the tears that appeared to be welling in the eyes of the woman all logic told him had been buried deep in the earth for at least two full winters.

"If your cowardly hide boards that ship today, you will return before the winter is through. And when you return it will be too late to save her. Your bullet will pierce her belly and her blood will stain your hands until she lies lifeless in your arms." Turning to face him, Joan whispered through clenched teeth, " _And I would have better for my little scorpion..."_

Reeling back against her sudden assault, Ethan was unable to prevent her pressing the tips of three fingers against his forehead. The moment her impossibly cold flesh touched his, he felt all sensation leave his limbs, rendering him powerless against the images that began to flash before him with alarming speed and clarity.

A pair of familiar blue eyes, desperate and haunted. Sunken cheeks and deathly pale skin. The smell of gun powder, and the rattle of a final breath echoing in his ear. And blood. So much blood that his stomach began to roll.

When Joan released him from her grasp he staggered to his feet, almost able to feel the weight of his lover in his arms, lifeless in his embrace.

"That's impossible! I would never hurt her." Ethan shook his head in desperation, holding up his hand to slow her as the woman also rose. He felt his head spinning as he stumbled against the nearest wall and wretched until his stomach was emptied.

Pressing his forehead against the rough stonework of the wall, he placed his palms there to steady himself, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. No matter how many breaths he took the stench of gunpowder and iron clung to his nostrils, and he could not banish the image of Vanessa's corpse from his mind.

"She believes you will go to your death! That you have chosen this... this righteous self-flagellation over her. Do you think thoughts of your body rotting deep beneath the ground have left her mind since you fled from her arms?"

Realisation dawning, Ethan took slow, deep breaths, in and out. He opened his eyes hurriedly against the images that were imprinted there and his heart began to pound beneath his chest.

"What I just saw... the fate you described... is that..." He swallowed against the taste of vomit in his mouth - against the wave of nausea that seemed to swell up his throat at the thought of losing the woman he loved, at his own hand, no less. "What I mean is, can it be changed? If I stay... If…Please tell me it’s not my destiny to… to…"

His voice broke at the implication, and he remained resolute that nothing in this world - or any other for that matter - could bring him to harm Vanessa.

Joan's hand landed on his shoulder and she pressed her fingertips into his flesh in what he assumed was an attempt at comfort.

"Nothing is set in stone. Not yet. All of the things you desire, they can still be. And the dark one cannot claim her if she belongs to another in the eyes of the God it fears. Go home to her. Take her for your wife. Put a ring on her finger and a child in her belly. Don't be a coward, boy. Be brave enough to live, or she will be lost to you forever."

Ethan turned to find the spectre of the woman beginning to fade against the rising dawn, but her final words lingered, repeating in his ear until he shook them away and reached for his bag.

Placing his hat resolutely on his head, he paused for only a moment to check that the woman had indeed disappeared.

Nodding in silent thanks to the vacant space on the step, Ethan glanced around him as he slung his bag up onto his shoulder. He'd seen far too much of the otherworldly to question the events of the morning, and the nagging sense of dread that was now upon him reassured him that it had all been quite real. Suddenly, filled with a renewed sense of purpose and urgency, he stepped free from the darkness and into the morning light.


	2. Good God, Let Me Give You My Life

Sanctuary.

Even in her childhood days, the church had been a place of safety and solace for Vanessa Ives. She’d found herself seeking comfort in the Lord’s House, soothed by the trace of incense that hung in the air, and the scent of the aged books and wooden pews that had afforded centuries of worshippers communion with their God.

But that morning, as she sat in her saviour’s presence, it was not worship that she offered nor comfort that she sought. For the first time in her life, Vanessa Ives was angry at her maker.

Despite all she had endured - all she had resisted - she found herself alone; abandoned. Sir Malcolm had left before the dawn had broken, intent on taking Sembene back to his ancestral homeland to be laid to rest. Mr. Lyle had fled to his London town house, too traumatised to even begin to process the events of the previous evening. Victor was unaccounted for, although it would be easy to imagine him in an opium induced haze of denial.

And Ethan.

She had offered him her heart and he had rejected her. He desired the penitence of the hangman’s noose over the love she offered; a love she had at one time thought he freely returned.

She’d cried her eyes dry of tears over the letter he’d left in his wake, imagining him cold in the ground, his handsome face covered by the executioner’s hood - his body rotted into the earth until all that was left of him was the faint memory of a gun slinger with an easy smile and a kind heart.

Vanessa sat motionless in the pew, hands knotted in her lap, as she stared at the altar and the gold cross that hung in the centre.

The priest had offered her words of comfort and practiced verses that assured her that God had a plan. When she’d rebutted his reassurance with a further cascade of anguished tears, he’d offered her the more visceral comfort of a warm blanket around her shoulders, and a glass of water that remained untouched on the shelf before her.

There were no more conscious tears to be shed and no more prayers to spill forth from her lips. Vanessa had slipped into a state of numbness, her heart broken and her soul utterly defeated.

As she stared around the church, her gaze landed on the flickering flame of one of the candles that lined the aisle, and she stared until the image was all but burnt into her eyelids. She didn’t notice the tears that streamed down her cheeks just as she didn’t notice the sound of heavy, urgent footsteps in the porch.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Ethan had returned to Grandage Place to find the house in darkness, devoid of life. He’d searched each and every room for Vanessa, his heart pounding with desperation when he found no trace of her, aside from the crumpled letter on her pillow. The rosary lying on the undisturbed bed hinted at her location, and he’d paused only to retrieve an old, metal tobacco tin from his bag before he’d found himself slamming the door of the great house and hurrying through the streets towards the church.

He’d welcomed the sound of the bells peeling the hour, drawing him closer to his love as a lighthouse guided sailors to shore. Joan’s warning rang in his ears and, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t dispel the images of Vanessa’s lifeless body in his arms, or shake the faint smell of blood that seemed to permeate his nostrils.

His pace was hurried but the early hour and poor conditions meant few others were out, save for those forced to navigate their way to various forms of gainful employment. Which is why the tall, well-dressed man in a top hat and tails immediately caught his attention.

He loitered outside the church, his head down and his gaze trained on the ground beneath his feet; until he felt the weight of Ethan’s stare upon him.

When their eyes met, Ethan felt the wolf stirring restlessly within, as if struggling against its confines and spoiling for a fight. A shiver ran down his spine as he pulled the collar of his coat up higher against his neck, and he observed the stranger with a malice that he couldn’t explain.

He’d only felt this visceral response from the wolf when Vanessa was in danger - Lupis Dei was her sworn protector, after all.

The stranger followed Ethan’s gaze with equal determination, as if refusing to be bested by the American’s open hostility. But he did not follow into the church and for that Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. He had to make things right with Vanessa.

The door of the church was open and the flickering candlelight from within beckoned him with a welcoming glow against the gloomy morning.

Taking off his hat out of respect for his surroundings, he scanned the pews until his gaze landed on a solitary, dark haired figure.

Her whispered prayers caught his ear as he stepped closer, and yet her hands remained clasped together in her lap, not offered up in the traditional pose. Her blue eyes remained open and unblinking, red rimmed from the tears that descended her cheeks.

She didn’t turn as he stepped down the aisle but he watched her eyes close, as if she was already dismissing the concerned questions a stranger might engage her with.

The sight of her was a dagger to his heart and, in that moment, Ethan Chandler wondered how he ever could have possibly been so stupid. He hadn’t saved her from his demons, he’d simply added to her torment and broken her heart. With that, he’d plunged her further into the darkness that continually threatened to consume her.

He’d planned to sit next to her, to offer her the most sincere of apologies, to profess his love and hope she would once again offer hers. But the sight of her was too much to bear, and the desire to simply enclose her in an embrace and beg for forgiveness was all consuming. He just wanted to feel her in his arms and to reassure himself that it wasn’t too late; that evil would not take her because she was his.

Ethan sank to his knees in front of her with the sickening thud of bone against the stone floor. Offering her his worship, rather than the God her whisperered pleas were intended for. His hands closed around hers and her eyes opened at the contact. His fingers closed tighter and he peered up at her through the tears of a desperate man.

“Vanessa.” Her name tore a gasp from her lips and she blinked rapidly, clearly disbelieving the sight before her. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Her mouth opened as if to form a reply but she couldn’t find the words, forced to simply stare at him in abject surprise with her mouth open and her brows knit into a frown.

“Forgive me,” he pleaded. “I was a coward and a fool to leave you. Please… Vanessa…”

His head came to rest in her lap and he wrapped his arms around her waist, ignoring the rules of propriety that their surroundings and their society demanded.

Vanessa blinked, completely silent as she found herself unable to articulate the myriad of emotions that stirred within her. Finally, she gave herself over to the one overwhelming feeling that pulled at her heart; love.

With a trembling hand she reached down towards him and, a strangled sob bubbling up from her chest, she combed her fingers through his hair. He held onto her tighter, lifting his head as she bent hers until their foreheads touched and he could reach up to cup her cheek.

“Ethan!” Vanessa wept, practically rejoicing at the sensation of his skin against hers, reassuring her that he was alive and well. She could not know that her own thoughts were echoed in that moment in his mind, as the Cut Wife’s warning brought new urgency to his embrace.

“I imagined you dead. Gone from this earth forever. You cannot… You cannot know how those thoughts have tormented me.”

But of course, he could, and he wondered if he’d ever be free of the horrific images that plagued him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Van,” he repeated, moving to sit next to her and enclose her in an embrace that she readily accepted. His cheek against hers, he caressed the line of her jaw, his thumb brushing tears from her skin as regret struck again and again at his heart. “I promise I will never leave your side again. I mean to stay… forever, if you’ll allow it.”

Vanessa frowned, not quite understanding his change of heart when he had seemed so desperate for repentance.

“Was it not last night that I offered you my heart… my love? And you left, in search of salvation at the end of a hangman’s noose. And now you offer me eternity?”

His fingers stilled on her cheek, and he captured her gaze to emphasize the sincerity behind his words. “Vanessa, I love you. You _are_ my salvation.”

Vanessa stared up at him, at a loss with his confession. Only hours earlier her heart had been irrevocably broken by his leaving, and suddenly he was back, in her arms, offering her a life she had long ago resigned herself to never having.

“Vanessa, please… tell me you don’t want to be with me. Tell me you don’t love me.”

He captured the tears that fell from her blue eyes with the pads of his thumbs as he cupped her face in his hands, and implored her to offer him her heart.

“You know I cannot,” she replied, blinking against further tears and averting her gaze. From the corner of her eye she spied the priest lurking behind the confessional, clearly concerned about the scene playing out in his church.

Ethan continued, buoyed somewhat by her admission. He’d spend the rest of his life proving he was worthy of her love, if she’d permit it. “So marry me.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened, and she let out a puff of laughter that brought a frown to his handsome face.

“Mr. Chandler, I fear you have completely lost your mind.”

Shaking his head, Ethan tilted her chin up, leaning down until his breath ghosted her cheek.

“No. This is the first sane thought I’ve entertained in a long time. I was a dumb fuck to think I could leave you, and I intend to be by your side for the rest of my God-damn life. We can be together, Van, you and me, as man and wife… _God’s plan, remember_?”

He felt his heart hammer in his chest as Vanessa contemplated her answer to his sudden proposition. Longing, affection, and then fear played across her features, and he captured her attention with a smile, immediately knowing the source of her fear.

“There’s no sin in the love between husband and wife, darlin’. Desire isn’t sinful… not when we’re joined together in the eyes of God. We can have a life together, Van. Away from all of this, away from the darkness. _Just say yes._ ” He pressed his cheek to hers, his fingertips caressing the back of her neck as he felt her eyelashes flutter against his skin.

Vanessa practically trembled with fear, poised to make a decision that would change their destinies forever. Yet there was a sense of completion, of rightness to her decision that allowed her to consider that perhaps this had been God’s intent all along.

“Alright,” she replied in little more than a whisper, her breath catching in her chest as she found his lips pressed to hers. She could do no more than return his kisses with equal hunger and affection.

Ethan held her close, releasing the relieved breath that he had been holding ever since Joan had appeared before him. Vanessa drew her arms around his waist, pressing her face into the rough cotton of his shirt and breathing in the scent and warmth that radiated from his body.

Drawing back, he kept one arm around her waist whilst he used his free hand to pull the tobacco tin from his pocket. Placing it on his knee, he opened it up to reveal a couple of Native American necklaces, and a solitary gold band.

“It was my mother’s,” he explained, pulling the wedding ring onto the tip of his finger as he cast a furtive glance around the church, wondering just how much persuasion he’d have to employ to talk the priest into forgoing the usual pre-marital practices and marrying them on the spot. Vanessa was poised to reply when she suddenly caught the expression on his face. “How well do you know the good preacher, here? You reckon he’d be amenable to performing a marriage ceremony?”

Vanessa glanced between the two men; the priest now eyed them with building confusion and a hint of suspicion. 

“You mean… now? You wish for us to get married _now_ , this very instant?”

Pressing a final kiss to her forehead, he captured her hand in his and tugged her to her feet as he stood. Ethan held up his finger to indicate the ring that would join them together forever.

“No time like the present, Miss Ives.”

x-x-x-x-x-x

By the time the sun set once again on the city, the couple found themselves back at Grandage Place, only this time, as man and wife.

Vanessa would never know what it was that Ethan had said to the Father to persuade him to perform a rather impromptu wedding ceremony but, after asking her if that was truly her wish, he had hurriedly employed the services of the organist and gardener to act as witnesses to the union. Of course, he had been privy to Vanessa’s deepest, darkest secrets in her time of greatest distress. She wondered if perhaps that was why he had paused at the end of the marriage ceremony to bless each of them in turn and place the mark of the cross on their heads in holy water. The comforting lilt of his voice - an echo from his Welsh homeland - had faltered as he offered up this final benediction. But it had been a comfort none the less and, as Ethan had thanked the two rather surprised witnesses with hearty handshakes, Vanessa had proffered a whispered question to the priest on the sanctity of the marriage bed, and the demon that sought her.

With her fears largely allayed, she found herself caught up in the joy of the moment and, as they’d left the church arm in arm, they’d meandered away an hour or two walking through the park. Park benches had been utilised for brief pauses and stolen embraces in the absence of prying eyes, and when they had returned to the house their cheeks were reddened by desire and not merely the icy December temperatures.

They sat in front of the fire, Vanessa’s legs draped over Ethan’s lap, as she reclined in her night clothes. They passed a hashish cigarette and tumbler of whiskey between them, trading stories of long forgotten childhood adventures. She laughed freely and heartily, and Ethan found himself entirely captivated by his bride. His hands came to rest on her ankles and he absently stroked her skin, venturing up as far as her knee before halting his advances further. Vanessa eyed him from behind a cloud of smoke, her lips pursed as she handed him the cigarette.

She leant back against the mound of cushions behind her and her expression shifted from predatory to shy and uncertain. He watched the change in her with interest, extinguishing the cigarette in an ashtray as he turned to face her, his hands sweeping slowly up her calves. Ethan found his senses dulled to the room around them; the gentle crackle of the coals in the fire, the soft hue of warm, ember light that painted the room - he saw and heard nothing, completely entranced by the woman beside him.

“Ethan…” She beckoned him to her, holding out her arms and shifting further down the cushions until he had come to rest with her, his weight born provocatively by the cradle of her hips.

“ _My love_ ,” she whispered, gazing up at him in adoration to find the same emotion written plainly across his features.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned her face into his palm, and sighed as he caressed her cheek. He pressed teasing kisses against her lips, his fingertips trailing her cheekbones before dipping to stroke the impossibly soft skin of her neck.

“In my entire, God-forsaken life, you are the most beautiful thing I ever laid my eyes on.”

Vanessa blushed at the compliment, her smile widening into a laugh that made his chest ache with affection.

“Compliments are the pastime of courting couples. I think perhaps we have moved beyond the point of flattery and flirtation, Ethan…”

She narrowed her eyes playfully, taking his hand from her cheek and watching his face as she settled it somewhat hesitantly over her breast.

“Is that so?” he purred. “Well, I plan on being quite the attentive husband.”

Ethan bent his head, his lips hovering above hers as his fingers explored previously forbidden flesh. Vanessa lifted her head from the cushion to close the remaining distance, and this time when their lips met there was no hesitancy or restraint, only base desire.

He drew back to look at her, unwilling to do anything that might spook her, but Vanessa gazed at him with a smile, coaxing him back into her arms.

Closing her eyes at the sensation of the reverent kisses he trailed down her neck, Vanessa whispered into her husband’s ear, “ _I am not afraid anymore_.”


	3. My Lover's The Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be an epilogue. I haven't decided yet.   
> Thank you for reading/reviewing. I hope you've enjoyed this little 'fix it' that I needed to get out of my system.

The curtains had been drawn in haste, leaving the smallest gap between the heavy, velvet panels that allowed a sliver of light to slice through the darkness of the room.

Unlike the previous evening, the walls did not echo with the sound of tormented sobbing, and an unusual peace had descended upon the great house. Beneath the comforting weight of the bed covers, the couple slept on in an exhausted slumber, cocooned as much in each other’s arms as within the linens that covered them. Ethan lay curled around his new bride, his arm pulling her body flush to his and their joined hands clasped to her chest. For the first time in weeks the wolf within allowed itself to rest, euphoric in finally having claimed its mate.

Vanessa enjoyed a rare and dreamless sleep. With her usual torments gone, the fear that had clawed at her senses each night had been replaced by the safety of her lover’s arms. Secure in the knowledge she was loved, Vanessa slept soundly, and the gold band on her finger glinted in the moonlight.

The clock on the fireplace mantle soundlessly struck 3 am and the house remained eerily still. Though the streets outside were as silent as the grave, something roused the young woman from sleep with a dart of panic to her heart.

Vanessa opened her eyes with a sharp intake of air, her brows creasing as she scanned the bedroom for any other-wordly visitor. She had grown terrifyingly accustomed to those over time. Relieved to see that no errant spirit or malevolent entity had chosen to malign her wedding night, Vanessa found her gaze instead drifting towards the window; towards what she somehow now knew to be the source of her discomfort.

Though loathed to remove herself from her husband’s arms, she cast a fleeting glance back at Ethan’s handsome face and then deftly slipped his arm from around her. She slid from the bed with perhaps less grace than usual, careful not to jolt the sleeping man who for once appeared untroubled and at peace in his dreams.

Her robe lay draped over the back of the chair and she wrapped it hastily around her naked form, shivering at the chill of the December air. With her heart beginning to beat rapidly beneath her breast, Vanessa stepped over towards the window and teased her fingertips down the inside seam of one of the curtain panels. She pushed it open only a fraction, staring out into the street below and scanning the snowy ground for any signs of movement.

And there it was again; that sensation of being watched, of eyes steadily trained on her as if they could see right into the room within which she stood. She missed him at first, and it wasn’t until her vision adapted to the shadows of the darkened street that she finally spotted the figure.

Standing beneath the flickering street lamp of the house across the way, the man remained motionless. Arms still at his side, he stared up at Grandage Place as if his gaze could penetrate the walls themselves. Although their eyes could not meet, Vanessa knew he was aware of her presence.

Her mind began to race; was it another man sent after Ethan? A paid lackey of his father’s, intent on taking him back to America? Perhaps a police detective who intended to bring the wolf-man to justice.

Vanessa was so consumed in her thoughts that she missed the gentle creak of the floorboards behind her. It wasn’t until a strong hand slid around her waist and pulled her into an embrace that she was even aware that Ethan too was now awake.

He soothed her start of surprise with a kiss to her cheek, his body arching over hers as his lips brushed her ear.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he enquired playfully, nuzzling her neck and smiling against warm skin as she clasped both of his hands to draw his arms around her.

Vanessa remained silent and Ethan at once felt a familiar sense of dread begin to rise up from the pit of his stomach. “Vanessa?”

She tilted her head and smiled briefly in apology, yet her features were drawn in an appraising expression as she cast her gaze back down onto the street. “He’s watching.”

“Who?” Ethan frowned, looking down at the source of her consternation. “That guy? He’s probably just a drunk. Or maybe he’s lookin’ for a little companionship.”

He knew that was reaching; Grandage Place was certainly not in the sort of area that prostitutes frequented. However, he was loathed to let himself think the worst only eighteen hours into their marriage. He felt Vanessa take a deep breath against him, her heart rate betraying her building fear.

“He is here for me,” she finally stated with enough confidence that Ethan felt his own blood run cold.

Ethan recognised the almost trance-like appearance of her eyes, and he squeezed her tenderly before turning her in his arms.

Once more in possession of her senses, Vanessa stared down at the floorboards, her expression bitterly defeated.

“We were fools to think that the darkness would not come for me again, to claim me as its own. There can be no respite for me. No hope for a normal life.”

She fell into his arms, her fingers gripping so tightly at his back that Ethan was sure there would be scratches left on his skin.

“Vanessa, listen to me…you are _mine_. We belong to each other, in the eyes of God. This union…” he lifted her left hand and pressed a kiss over the wedding ring he had rejoiced in placing there. “This union is Holy. Consecrated. Evil has no place here, darlin’. I promise you.”

“I know what I feel, Ethan,” she countered angrily, sighing as he jostled her back towards the window until his imposing figure could be seen by the voyeur.

Ethan stood behind her, arms enclosing her, and one hand slid low onto her abdomen whilst the other slipped beneath the silk of her robe, coming to rest above her racing heart.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered against her ear. “I was put on this earth to protect you, to love you, and nothing will take you from me. You’re safe, Van. I swear to you, you’re safe with me.”

Vanessa turned until her forehead pressed to his, her fingers curling around the hand that lay on her chest as she professed almost forlornly, “I love you so.”

Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss, and she relaxed into his tightened embrace. The wolf stirred restlessly, enraged that its mate had been threatened. As Ethan levelled a glare at the man on the street below, he felt their eyes connect, and yet it was the yellowed, animalistic stare of the wolf that suddenly flashed back at the stranger in warning.

As if a connection had somehow been opened between the two, a snarl rumbled from deep within Ethan’s chest, as he asserted his dominance over the minion standing out in the freezing snow.

The words spilled furiously from his mind, captured somehow by the senses of the creature he pinned with merely a look.

“ _Tell your master_ , _she is mine_.”

Ethan let his hands wander the curves of Vanessa’s body, his scent still marking every inch of her skin, claiming ownership of his lover.

Laying her head back against him, she offered him the delicate skin of her neck, and his lips descended above her thrumming pulse with a swirl of teeth and tongue that made her knees weak with desire.

She sought out his lips, her hand caressing his jaw as their kisses became increasingly hungry, and she turned in his embrace to wrap her arms around his neck.

Vanessa felt the energy emanating from Ethan’s body change, as the wolf affirmed its claim on her. And she in turn clung to him, the scorpion accepting its similarly deadly mate with a show of equal dominance, and utter possession.

Ethan stole a moment away from their kisses to glance back out across the street, pleased to see the rapidly retreating figure of the creature that had been sent to spy at Vanessa’s window.

“He won’t be back,” Ethan assured her, his fingers caressing the soft skin at the nape of her neck. She watched as his eyes returned to the familiar brown she had come to adore, and their hearts slowed, chests pressed together whilst they stood in each other’s arms.

“God has joined us together and nothing on this earth or the next can come between us now.”

Vanessa let her head rest against his shoulder, her eyes closing at the welcome sensation of his hands sweeping her back in slow, reassuring strokes. “You sound so certain.”

Ethan mulled it over for a moment, thinking back on the words of the old wise woman that had saved him from himself. The images she had shown him - of what could have been - still filled him with dread.

Brushing his lips across Vanessa’s temple, he held her almost impossibly closer, desperate to dispel those visions and instead focus on the woman he loved - alive and radiant in his arms.

“Let’s just say I have it on good authority.”

Vanessa eyed him with curiousity, content for the moment at least to let him keep his secret.

Suddenly glancing at her husband with an amused giggle, Vanessa arched an eyebrow and titled her head, sending a cascade of raven waves down her back.

“Mr. Chandler, I do hope you’re not going to make a habit of standing in our windows, scandalously nude.”

He intercepted her wry smile with a shrug, stepping closer as he caught her sweeping a blatantly lustful gaze over his body. Vanessa watched as his hands made hasty work of undoing the knot that held her robe together and, moments later, he pushed the silk from her shoulders until it pooled at her feet on the floor. His fingers slid around her hips and he said a silent prayer of thanks for the moonlight that illuminated her naked form.

“Well, _Mrs. Chandler_ , now we’re both scandalously nude,” he noted, sighing in contentment as her arms closed around his neck and she inclined her head as if to kiss him.

“It would appear so,” she agreed, delighting in the sensation of her skin pressed to his, and the new found freedom to explore the more intimate aspect of their relationship. There had been no whisperings from Lucifer, no threat of evil possessing her mind when they had become one, only passion and pleasure born out of the very deepest love.

“Ethan, take me to bed.”

Needing no further instruction on the matter, Ethan lifted his new wife into his arms, depositing her onto their bed with an urgency that tore a delighted giggle from her chest.

The couple were content to lose themselves in each other, happily surrendering to their desires long into the early hours, until the sun bathed the sky in the beauty of a winter’s morning.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Across the city, Dracula stood over the bloodied corpse of his minion. Renfield’s stuttered words had sent him into a rage that had made the death of their bearer almost inevitable.

With the warning of Lupus Dei ringing in his ears, the fallen angel could do little but accept defeat at the hands of the God he had so long ago forsaken.


End file.
